Love Bears Thorns
by Tatooinedweller
Summary: Pegasus's niece has come to him for help... but can she still love the man he's become?
1. Reunion

Disclaimer: I don't own Yugioh. I also know virtually nothing of human psychology except what I've observed and what I've read in sci-fi novels, seen in movies, etc., likewise mental/emotional disorders, and high-class living. I'm not writing to be accurate, I'm writing to be dramatic, and I'm only a lowly high-school junior who knows squat about adult society. That being said, overlook my errors and just enjoy the story, savvy?  
  
Chapter 1: Family  
  
Bach seems to be appreciated most by those high-bred musicians who fall upon hard times. The darkened apartment wailed with hard times. Smooth arpeggios played with almost obsessive precision sent cleansing, clear-cut, crystalloid beauty to the farthest corner of the dimmed room. The noted bounced off the simple elegance of the modern-cut furniture with its carefully hidden worn edges, the silvery-lined countertop, wax-tears mourning its old sparkling polish, the fading old black appliances bravely pretending to be lustery-new. Here or there a burnt-out lamp sat forlornly, waiting for bright new bulbs to give them their dignity back.   
  
Only the conical ceiling light was on, spreading a soft fey glow throughout the room, glossing on the silver hair of a young woman as her body swayed in the music like an elder in the wind. Aislinn was lost in a world of smooth-flowing, liquid gold-silver emotions dancing and trickling and flowing and bubbling through her head and mind and body and soul. She was wrapped in the soft velvet blanket of musical passion that blocks out all distractions and discordant thoughts. Her slender fingers flew over the violin as for a moment she was back at home with maids and fine clothes and beautiful crystal chandeliers hanging from the ballroom ceiling.   
  
The final notes, released from the soul, flew away on the air. Aislinn carefully laid the violin in its case and stared at the computer against the wall. It seemed out of place with the rest of her, like the t-shirt and jeans and the torn mock-up and the whole accursed apartment!   
  
She wanted her old fairy-tale life back at her father's extravagant estate. She had had it all: a mansion to roam, maids to send on errands, all the money a girl could want, that lovely ruffled dress from her uncle's girlfriend who had befriended the little child Aislinn... It was the perfect life. Then her parents had died when their ship exploded on vacation, and her older brother Talon had taken over the house. He had kicked Aislinn out, giving her barely enough money to get through two years of college. She learned of music and art. She had first played her violin, but it made little money. Then she found an old computer, was given a few programs by her friend Kathy, and tried her hand in digital art. It caught on, and she could have made a substantial living if it wasn't for her brother, who kept pushing her down. Now she needed money to appease him and his silly lawsuit. Why was he so persistent? Was he trying to make sure she wasn't made rich by assistance from their inanely successful uncle, who had always favored Aislinn over Talon-  
  
Her uncle. She pondered this forbidden thought. When she was about eight years her parents had forbidden them to visit him again. Aislinn had been upset, because it was always a fun visit. He was kind and listened to her when nobody else would, and they had had much in common. They told the children that he had been in an accident and had become--here they lowered their voices--mentally unstable. Violent. It was too dangerous.  
  
Now she thought of her other choices. Go and ask for his help, or die of starvation. Or murder, depending on whether she could outsmart her brother's hit-men if he got in a foul enough temper. Perhaps she should pay a visit to some old family after all these years.  
  
******************  
  
Aislinn frowned at Kathy's tone.   
  
"Your uncle? Have you heard all the rumors?" It wasn't mean or even gossipy. It was feral, excited. She sounded like a hunting puppy dog looks before retrieving its favorite meal. "Ooh, I'd love to come with you! Plllleeeease?"  
  
"Kathy, I won't have you making my uncle into a specimen. Besides, I don't know if its right that I just invite someone else-"  
  
"But you're just inviting yourself!"  
  
"I'm family!"   
  
"I promise I'll stay out of sight. If you'd been keeping up with the news, you'd know that there is a dueling tournament going on over there. I'll be invisible. I'm a fair duelist."  
  
"It's not-"  
  
"There you go with that 'proper' thing again. Forget 'proper' for once and let me be my low-society self and break some rules."  
  
Aislinn sighed. Her uncle was every well-informed psychologist's dream to study-to hear Kathy talk at least. Thank heavens that few were in on the 'mentally unstable' rumors. If they were rumors. Kathy was really excited. And she had offered to pay Aislinn's airfare... it was only proper that she be appeased. Aislinn sighed again.  
  
Kathy was rather... middle-class. Sometimes it grew annoying. But Kathy had befriended Aislinn and helped her out so many times.  
  
Besides, Aislinn reminded herself, you're middle-class too, now.  
  
"Okay. You can come."  
  
"Yay!" Kathy gave her a quick squeeze. "I just need to go and grab a few things from my apartment-"  
  
"Kathy, slow down! I-we-don't leave until next week!"  
  
************  
  
"I can't believe I'm flying into an out-of-bounds air zone for you snobs," snorted Bert, a dark-eyed, dark-haired, daring, good-natured pilot who Kathy had the good fortune of befriending a while ago, and who Kathy had managed to wheedle into flying them to Duelist Kingdom island.   
  
"Oh, shut up and fly, you wuss. Aislinn, are you okay?"  
  
"I... hate... helicopters..."  
  
"If you would just open your eyes, you could appreciate the view. Look, there it is!"  
  
Aislinn, in a desperate attempt to overcome her fear of flight, forced her hands off her eyes and peeked in the direction of solid ground. What greeted her eyes made the nausea worth it: shimmering blue waters ended suddenly at a curving island shoreline, here blanketed with lush green trees, there rock-strewn wildness, over there sandy, level ground that begged of little girls in calico to let down their hair and romp in the grassy openness. The chopper turned, and all at once the land seemed to sweep upward with a grand castle atop it that any princess could wish for: all turrets and balconies and a menacing yet graceful strength that bespoke of an appreciation for luxury.  
  
Kathy's mouth dropped open. Aislinn snickered.   
  
"It looks like home to me. Finally, some decency."  
  
"Woah," Brent breathed from the pilot's seat, "just where did you say you were from, Cinderella? I don't want any pure, sweet princesses defiling my chopper."  
  
Kathy found her voice. "Well good, because Aislinn is a dirty, murderous princess on a mission for her brother's blood."  
  
"Oh, that's okay, then."  
  
*************  
  
"Okay!" shouted Brent over the noise of the propellers. "I don't care what you stretch, I no longer owe you anything!"  
  
"Get out of here before you're caught, you jerk," joked Kathy.  
  
Brent saluted and left them standing on the open plain. Aislinn stood still, letting the breeze tease her silver hair, taking it all in.   
  
Ah, uncle, you've certainly done well.  
  
"To the castle?" inquired Kathy beside her, and Aislinn nodded and led the way toward the grey wonder on the hill.  
  
****************  
  
"Um... should you knock, or me?"  
  
"It's 'you or I'," Aislinn corrected automatically.   
  
What if he really is insane? What if he doesn't recognize me? What if he tries to hurt me? Oh, don't be ridiculous, if he was violent there would be no dueling contest going on. I hope.  
  
"Yo, Aislinn!"  
  
"Oh! Ah..." she raised a hand to knock on the grand wooden doors, but before her knuckles touched wood they opened and a harsh-looking man in a black suit stepped out.   
  
"Who are you?" he asked suspiciously.  
  
"My name is Aislinn. I wish to see Mr. Pegasus."  
  
"What is your business."  
  
She drew herself up into an almost forgotten air of noble superiority, trying to ignore the fact that she was dressed in an old shirt and faded jeans. "Family business. It's very important."  
  
The guard glared down at her through his dark glasses. "Nice try, Master Pegasus has no family. Get lost."  
  
Now she was angry, and felt the blood rise to her cheeks. Ignorant underling, he had no right to sass her. "He has no family because what was left of them disowned him! I am Aislinn Pegasus! He is my uncle! If you would just get off your lazy rear and ask I'm sure he could confirm this!"  
  
Swiftly, the guard pulled a black two-way radio out of his pocket. "You'd better be right about this," he growled and turned away for a moment.  
  
Kathy, luggage in hand, was staring at Aislinn in disbelief. "Remind me never to get in a fight with you."  
  
Aislinn glared, but before she could reply the guard turned towards them again, an apologetic look on his face.   
  
"I'm terrible sorry, miss Aislinn, but I must uphold the highest standards of security, especially this weekend. You understand." He bowed and opened the door. "Keep waking down the hall. Master Pegasus is expecting you."  
  
"Thank you," replied Aislinn. She did understand. "Come, Kathy."  
  
"'Come, Kathy,'" her friend mocked. "You've become, like, a totally different person, Az!"  
  
Aislinn smiled at this comment, and, holding her head as high as if she were a little girl on her father's estate again, strode into the hall.  
  
********  
  
The insides of the castle were decorated richly, with almost overdone extravagance, and Aislinn wondered how much of it was originally there and how much her uncle's decorator had added. It certainly suited his taste for finery; it had been a running family joke in the early years that Aislinn and Maximillion were the two true aristocrats of the family and couldn't resist anything lavish.  
  
There was nothing tangible yet amiss to suggest truth to the rumors, but underneath everything Aislinn considered normal was something which made her uneasy. As she thought about it, she realized there was a hint of eccentricity running through the castle, subtle, yet it was there, like the scribbling of Kathy taking notes beside her. Aislinn shot her friend a dirty look, then braced herself as the hall opened up into a room.  
  
It was consistent with what she had yet seen of the castle, with a long table with a single place set at the far end. There, holding a glass of red wine and smiling urbanely, was her uncle, Maximillion Pegasus, in a lavish, almost garish red suit that she had never seen before, and rather didn't like.  
  
At once he rose, spreading his arms in dramatic welcome. "Well if it isn't my dear niece! Greetings!"  
  
Aislinn struggled to keep the relief off her face. He remembered her. But still, something was drastically different. "Uncle, I beg your pardon for my rude entrance, I should have contacted you first."  
  
His laughter was as emphatic and musical as his speech. "Think nothing of it. I'm more than happy to tolerate you're 'rude entrance' anytime."  
  
It was okay. However he had changed, neither she nor Kathy were in any danger. She finally allowed herself to relax and smiled, glancing at her friend. Kathy had the look of a country girl in the middle of Philadelphia who just realized she got on the wrong bus. Obviously, she had never been in the midst of the rich class before.  
  
"Uncle, this is my friend Kathy Corinth. Kathy, this is my uncle, Maximillion Pegasus."  
  
Kathy, eyes glazed, slowly offered her hand. "Hi," she gasped. Aislinn struggled not to laugh.  
  
Pegasus, still holding the wine glass, swept up her hand and lightly kissed her fingers lightly with a slight bow. "My pleasure, miss Corinth," he said, a playful smile dancing around the corners of his lips. As he tilted his head, Aislinn noticed an almost metallic flash on the left side of his face under his smooth silver hair. She frowned, remembering that he never used to wear his hair like that.  
  
"What's wrong, my dear niece?"  
  
"Oh, nothing, I was just thinking about the reason I came," she replied quickly.  
  
"Ah, yes, right to the heart of the matter. We never could manage small talk together."  
  
"Remember that dinner party with my father?" she said, grinning at the memory. "When that old couple brought their exotic bird from Africa?"  
  
He nodded. "All we were supposed to do was go and say hello, how do you do..."  
  
"Small talk," she added. "We made a mess of that."  
  
"Now I believe you were the one that brought up the mating habits."  
  
"But it was you who mentioned their practical uses."  
  
They both laughed at what had been, painfully aware of what was now.  
  
"I don't believe you find this very interesting, do you, miss Corinth."  
  
"I don't mind," she stammered.  
  
"Aislinn, why don't we discuss this tomorrow. You can get settled in tonight, learn your way about the place, et cetera. If your business isn't terribly urgent, that is, and you don't mind. It's been a bit of a long day here in the midst of preparations and beginning of the tournament."  
  
"I don't mind at all. As for learning our way around, I should think one castle is like another?"  
  
"Of course. I only ask that you do not try overly hard to enter any locked doors."  
  
"Certainly."  
  
"I'll also provide some better apparel for you two lovely ladies, yes? There is a tournament going on, after all."  
"Thank you."  
  
"My dear niece, my castle is your castle!" He chuckled.  
  
"My deepest thanks, uncle." Then she noticed the light food on the table, and realized that the whole time they had been talking, he had nether called for or mentioned Cecilia. This was odd and a little disappointing, because Aislinn and Cecilia had been close friends, and Aislinn had been looking forward to seeing her again. Cecilia and Maximillion were infamously inseparable. Was it possible the two had grown apart during their marriage? Unlikely, because he still would have called her down upon Aislinn's arrival. She must be away.  
  
"Gorgonzola cheese," she observed. "Cecilia's favorite."   
  
Another family joke had been the fact that Maximillion had first tried this particular type of cheese away from Cecilia's presence and disliked it. The first day he met Cecilia, he found out that she loved it, and he began to ask for it all the time. It had been extremely cute to see him so devoted to the girl, or so Aislinn had heard from cousins. She hadn't been alive at the time.   
  
Immediately the air solidified into something cold and tense, and all warmth left Pegasus's demeanor. Aislinn knew immediately she had trod on forbidden territory, and froze. For a brief moment, her uncle simply stared with a kind of wild, restrained terror, like a cornered animal. In his visible brown eye, Aislinn saw a gleam of something that frightened her, something terrible and inhuman, inner demons of an unknown but horrifying nature.   
  
The moment quickly passed, and he covered his face with a mask of perfect aristocratic restraint. He took a sip of wine.   
  
"Of course," he answered, his tone as extravagant and dramatic forever, yet completely devoid of all warmth. Aislinn dared not ask about Cecilia.  
  
"I'll show you your rooms myself. Croquet will get you anything you need while you're here. Follow me, ladies!"   
  
Kathy and Aislinn followed him as he swept out of the room and down the hallway. At one point, they passed paintings of a dark-skinned man in a turban beside a portrait of Cecilia, but Aislinn dared not speak.   
  
Their rooms were beside each other on the second floor of the castle, with a stunning view of the lush scenery. They could even see a few dueling rings, and decided to stay in Kathy's room for a bit.  
  
"Again, Croquet will see to you every whim. You'll both find dresses in the closets, thought they may be a bit old, for which you have my apologies. I will be sure Croquet brings you up the best. I do hope your tastes haven't changed, Aislinn?" She shook her head. "Wonderful! And Kathy, I don't mean to be presumptuous, but I thought we might get you several different styles so you can find one you like."  
  
"That's... wonderful," she said, still lost in this new world.  
  
"I wish you ladies a wonderful evening, I'd be honored if you'd join me for breakfast tomorrow, but until then have a wonderful evening!"  
  
"Thank you, uncle," Aislinn said, and he left them to themselves. 


	2. Secrets

Chapter 2  
  
[Ahaha! *devilish laugh* I've been reading up on Poe! You're all going to have fun now! -)   
  
Now, considering I have approximately three other school projects I should be working on, this story is officially a monument to human distraction and procrastination. And in addition to the previous note, I don't play the violin. Both my siblings played for about a year. That's all I know. One last thing: I began writing this BEFORE I read cPegasus's fic, and did not leech the idea from hers.]  
  
Aislinn, in a completely unladylike manner, flopped onto Kathy's elaborate four-poster bed with a sigh, silver hair flying into disarray. Kathy continued staring out the window, watching the sun sink into the west.   
  
Presently she spoke. "Okay, Az, this is the most amazing trip of my life to date, but I can't enjoy it if you don't. I don't have to be a psychologist to realize something's bothering you. So spill it."  
  
"Oh, Kathy, I just can't help remembering what it was like before... And... something's going on. I don't know what it is, but it has something to do with Cecilia. Kathy, does he seem... insane to you? I'm sorry about ruining your great trip. What is your opinion of this whole business?"  
  
"Woah, Az, one thing at a time." She walked over and joined her friend on the bed. "You're uncle... well, I'm honestly not sure what to think. He seems to have control over his actions, but then I read a story by Poe recently, who made the point that when a lunatic seems the most sane, that is the time to put him in a straitjacket.  
  
"Kathy!"  
  
"I'm not saying he's got some evil plan, I'm not saying he's crazy! No need to get all defensive. It's just, well, there's something about the way he talks and moves, and the decor is a little eccentric, unless this is normal?"  
  
"I noticed that as well."  
  
"And his eyes. There was almost a--a kind of..."  
  
"I know what you mean." Aislinn sighed. "Yes, I noticed those things."  
  
They sat in silence for a moment, staring out the window.  
  
"Az?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Is it... did you... is it typical for the high class to drink a lot of wine?"  
  
"My family was always big on wine. I drank it even as a child."  
  
"The casual way Pegasus held the wine glass sort of suggested that perhaps he was---ah--- accustomed to it."  
  
Aislinn sprang off the bed. "Are you saying my uncle is an alcoholic?!" she shouted.  
  
"Az, please! I'm only saying that it could explain a lot of the rumors. And another thing I observed was a lot of pain. Hidden pain, and it only came out when you mentioned that girl, and only for a second. I'll give him this, he either has the most remarkable hold over his emotion I've ever seen... or maybe..." ---her eyes stared at some spot a great distance away--- "maybe he's channeling emotion, using it in another form... have you ever read "Songmaster*," Aislinn?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Oh. Well, the students at the Songhouse, they use something called Control. It's like bottling up emotions until you can let them burst forth in song, and the students must be so good at Control they don't show emotion unless they want to, and they channel it. I think that might be what your uncle is doing. Channeling his normal self into something else. I suppose you could call it acting."  
  
"Wow, Kathy, thanks for that long, drawn-out explanation for something so simple."  
  
"No need for sarcasm."  
  
Aislinn glanced at her friend, and could tell by the carefully casual tone and curling of her fingers that she was lying about something. "Kathy, really, what is it."  
  
"Okay, Az, but you aren't going to like this. I don't think he's entirely sane."  
  
Aislinn was silent. Her eyes began to prick in the corners as she remembered old times. Since her father was so much older than Maximillion, there was not a huge age gap, and they had done everything together. They were out on the front lawn, chasing new cat. Uncle Maximillion had finally cornered at the garden wall the rebellious feline, who had promptly scratched him in the face and run up a tree. Then they were out on the patio at a formal party, and Aislinn, six years old, spilled wine some on her dress, which her uncle covered with a "corsage" of weeds that received many compliments. The tears flowed freely down her face now, and the memories rushed back, unstoppable. They were at the poolside, he was painting her, and it was hours after they realized the "rhus radicans" that her father's friend had said would look lovely around her hair was more commonly called "poison ivy." Aislinn found how horribly allergic she was, and Maximillion had knocked him down. She was getting picked on by some older boys and he had stood up for her. As the sun streamed in through the windows, he taught her how to ballroom dance. He was a child, the violin bow danced across the strings so elegantly and beautifully, and she was won over to music. Years passed, and his fingers flew over the piano keys as they played their favorite duet, as they gave each other a deeper understanding of the power and technique of music. In the dark, the chandelier lit, she guided him to discovering the beauty and importance of shadows in art. In the snowy cold, they had gone Christmas caroling together. And those were only the memories of them alone. The best times were had with Cecilia, gentle, kind, quick to laugh. Cecilia singing Christmas carols with them in the snow at a neighboring house that they knew did not want them there. Cecilia pointing out strengths and weaknesses in his art, Cecilia showing Aislinn the fine points of fashion, Cecilia who she had spent long, giggling night hours with, Cecilia who had confessed her love for Maximillion and asked her permission, and Cecilia of whom Maximillion had confessed his undying love and also asked Aislinn's advice. She could not deny it any longer. Something was terribly wrong here if he could not speak of the woman who had so stolen his heart.  
  
Aislinn sat up and hugged her knees, her body rocking with sobs, her face burning with shame to be so coarse in front of Kathy. How embarrassing, and yet she could not stop the tears now, the tears falling for all the memories, all the good times, all the laughter and song and mischief, and what it all was now: a mess. Her life, her parent's lives, and, in all evidence, her uncle's life. All that was left now was emptiness, a horrible, torturous emptiness, an emptiness which she felt now so acutely...  
  
In the midst of her misery, she felt Kathy roll across the bed and embraced her, silently telling her that she was not alone.   
  
******  
  
Aislinn was up at sunrise the next morning, the day breaking bright and annoying cheerful, as if the world was taunting her. Rubbing her eyes, she sat on the edge of the four-poster and stared at the wardrobe. Goody. Time to pick out a dress.  
  
Unlike Cecilia, Aislinn had never much enjoyed dressing up in frills and lace, and preferred simple elegance as well as one single, fool-proof color. Coloring digital art she could do, coloring her own attire she could not.   
  
Mustering her tiny bit of color-coordination and brandishing her scraps of knowledge from early multimedia classes like a sword, Aislinn flung open the oak wardrobe and was surprised to find it full. Then again, she had been at Kathy's room a while last night, her uncle's men must have filled it then. If she remembered correctly, her uncle was quite fond of dramatics and would expect her to dress nicely for this simple breakfast. She chose a long, light, silver gown which included a jacket of the same silky material with long, flowing sleeves. On the dresser she found several accessories, and chose a pearl necklace and silver stud earrings, as well as some heels of the same color. A quick run with the brush through her silver hair, and she critically scoured her appearance in the full-length mirror.   
  
It felt so odd, such finery after so long, like Cinderella must have felt as her rags turned into a ball gown. As an awkward child, the gowns she had loved had never quite flowed the way she wanted, and so sometimes she gave up on elegance and went for the "cute" look. But now she realized that this elegant look actually looked elegant, and not just pretty, with her long, willowy limbs, slender form, long hair, noble face. Perhaps it was too much for a simple breakfast. No, Maximillion would not mind, he would enjoy it, she was sure.   
  
There was a knock on her door.  
  
"Miss Aislinn," called a gruff voice, "Master Pegasus asks if you are ready for breakfast."  
  
"Perfect timing," she called back. "I'll be just a moment."   
  
It only took a few minutes to dab on some makeup--she never needed much for her taste--and practice walking in heels, practice which she found that she needed, much to her mortification.   
  
I wonder if Cinderella tripped on the way to the carriage? She wondered as she made her way down the hall.  
  
*****  
  
Kathy woke to a knock on her door. Sunlight streamed though the window. Rubbing sleep from her eyes, she squinted at the face of her watch. Eight o'clock. So that's how it is amongst the rich, hmm?  
  
"Breakfast, Miss Kathy."  
  
"Okay," she mumbled, feeling like a tee-ball benchwarmer placed in the pitcher's spot of a major league baseball team.  
  
The doors opened, and in came a servant with a silver tray. On the tray was one of those silver domes they put over fancy dishes, straight out of the movies.   
  
Kathy blinked sleepily in her penguin pajamas at the scene, not quite believing it. Her hand fell to the nightstand beside the bed and touched her notebook. Sleepiness disappeared as she recognized an opportunity.   
  
"You breakfast, miss," the servant said with a little smile at the poor disheveled girl in her pj's.   
  
"Um, thank you, but before you go, can I ask you a few questions? For research." She gave her biggest innocent smile.  
  
"Certainly," the servant replied, as if appeasing a little child.  
  
"Is Mister Pegasus kind to you?" Best to dive right in instead of tormenting yourself inch by inch in cold water.  
  
"Why, of course," he replied, a little disconcerted. She jotted down this in her notebook.  
  
"Does he confide in his underlings?"  
  
"Strictly business, miss." Now he definitely looked a little panicked, and a whole lot annoyed. Better get to the most critical points now.  
  
"Are you aware of whether he's suffered any trauma in the past? Any at all?"  
  
"Uh, enjoy your breakfast, miss," the servant said, and hurried out the door, Kathy jumping off the bed and heading after him, pen and notebook in hand.  
  
"Wait! Is he married? Yes or no!"   
  
But the servant had broken into a sprint and was already around a corner. Kathy gave up.  
  
Breakfast consisted of eggs and toast with lots of delicious jelly and some fruit of which Kathy wasn't sure she could identify. At least she guessed and hoped it was fruit.  
  
As she ate she gazed out the window, watching the dueling field begin to uncover, and decided to go and watch some duels.  
  
After eating she opened the wardrobe and was assailed by the aura of sheer laciness and silkiness that assailed her. Fortunately, folded neatly on the bottom were some stylishly cut jeans, and shirts, and there were a pair of what Kathy found extremely butt-kicking boots by the dresser. She passed up on the earrings and necklaces laid out, and with a brush of makeup and feeling extremely stylish charged out the door and into the winding hallway where she promptly got lost.   
  
About fifteen minutes later, right hand to the wall, she happened upon a stairwell leading down. She knew it wasn't the way out, and was about to pass it up, but the air was heavy with a kind of foreboding, invisible mist that resides in places of darkness and mystery and creepy things with eight legs and more eyes than anyone cares to think about. It was only natural that she go down.   
  
Fifty steps and three knights (there was no way she was getting lost down there) later, she came upon a bend, and ran into one of Pegasus's underlings as she rounded it. He did not look happy.  
  
"What are you doing down here?" he growled.  
  
"I--I'm lost," she stammered.  
  
"I'll lead the way," he replied with a tremendous "why me" sigh, and lead the way out, but not before Kathy got a good glimpse of some bars. Cells. A dungeon, of course! It's in the standard castle catalogue. This just got better and better! She could even have sworn she heard a cry for help. Definitely something to look in to, but now was the time to let this underling lead her poor, lost self to the exit, which turned out to be the next corner. Go figure.  
  
* Real book: "Songmaster" by Orsan Scott Card, if you've read it or eventually read it you'll know what I mean. 


	3. Monster

Chapter 3  
  
"Good morning, Aislinn," said Pegasus from the opposite side of the long table. Aislinn took a seat as an aide brought out food.  
  
"Good morning, uncle Max," she replied, hoping the old nickname would soften the formality. She hadn't called him that since she was six and had trouble saying Maximillion. The nickname seemed not to fit, and nobody used it but her father, who would always look on Maximillion as a younger brother.  
  
She needn't have worried.   
  
"Aislinn, I believe you have a problem."  
  
"I do, uncle. Do you remember my brother Talon?"  
  
He frowned. "Yes, I do."  
  
Aislinn sighed. "Well, he's my problem. He kicked me out of the house with barely enough money to make a life for myself. I tried playing my violin, but I couldn't make much money, then I acquired a cheap image editing program. I've discovered I have a little talent in digital art--" at this he smiled "--and I could do well with it, but my brother is keeping me under." The old bonds were beginning to return, and she knew what he was about to say before his lips began to move. "I'm sorry for coming now, in the middle of the tournament, and I would have come sooner, I did not forget about you, but I was--" she hesitated a moment, then fixed her gaze sternly on the man who used to be her uncle, watching intently for his reaction. "I was forbidden to see you by my parents. We were told many reasons, few of which I am inclined to believe. That's my story, now I would very much like to hear yours."  
  
A flash of pain crosses his visible eye but was quickly drowned by the over-expressive mask that she had seen before. The connection between them vanished like dust in the wind.   
  
He tilted his head and raised his wine glass, gently swirling the ruby liquid, a hint of somewhat demented amusement on his features. Aislinn clutched her hands together under the table to help her control her own shock, anguish, and mild revulsion at this change.  
  
"Ah, my dear Aislinn, of course. So much has happened, and I apologize profusely for my inconsideration." He took a sip and set down the glass before clasping his hands together before his bowed head in a gesture of weary depression that seemed real and true, and made him look so young and vulnerable and much more like Aislinn knew him, yet it had nothing of his true soul. Aislinn was reminded of what Kathy had said the night before about transforming one emotion into one to hide in.  
  
"Yes," he whispered. "So much has happened. And it all began with her death. I'm sorry, dear niece, I know how close you were."   
  
Aislinn clutched her hands tighter until the nails dug into the skin but tears still blurred her vision. Her fears had been true. The worst had happened.  
  
"No, uncle, I'm sorry. You two were much closer." Her heart ached so badly to walk around the table and wrap her arms around him, to plant an encouraging kiss on his forehead and let him cry on her shoulder and whisper her sympathies in his ear, to just be his compassionate niece as she would have done in the past, as he had done for her so many times.   
  
But times were different, a fact of which she was acutely aware.  
  
"Aislinn, I have something I must show you." With a slender hand he brushed aside the hair falling in front of his left eye, and Aislinn gasped. In place of his eye was a golden object, a simple caricature of the shape of a human eye, gleaming forebodingly in the light of the chandelier.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"It's something I... I obtained it in Egypt, on my journey there." He sighed heavily. "It's a cursed object, but it has interesting, supernatural abilities."  
  
He shuddered, Aislinn waited, and the next words from his mouth seemed to be dragged out by force of will.   
  
"I don't know if you'll understand this, but one of these abilities involves transferring souls."  
  
Just then the doors opened and an aide walked through.  
  
"Croquet," Pegasus growled, his mask firmly back in place, "this had better be good."  
  
"Sir, I just wanted to inform of the duel between Seto Kaiba and Yugi Moto, taking place just outside."  
  
"Thank you, Croquet. Aislinn, I apologize for cutting this short, but I would like very much to watch this duel. You may join me if you wish."  
  
"Thank you, uncle, I think I will." Aislinn knew enough about dueling to know how it was played and who Seto Kaiba was, and though she had never heard of this Yugi Moto, he must really be something if that egotistical CEO consented to duel him. It ought to be an interesting duel.  
  
***  
  
Kathy leaned on the wall around the balcony, closing her eyes and letting the wind blow through her hair, imagining herself to be Rapunzel and wishing she'd chosen a dress so she'd look the part.  
  
It was beautiful, the view, and so peaceful. Up here all of her awkwardness seemed to fly away on the breeze. She could think. Think about what she had learned so far. However, she could think all she wanted and wouldn't be any closer to knowing how the high class normally lived. Frustrating, but nothing could be done about it until she got a chance to talk to Aislinn.   
  
Instead, she looked out at the island. The beautiful, green island with luscious grass, sparkling waters, clean air... And the landscape wasn't the only beautiful bit...   
  
She bit her tongue to keep from smiling. Musn't go down that path, could be dangerous.  
  
Just as she was about to go inside and change, there was a movement at the entrance of the castle.  
  
By the looks of it, it was a group of kids confronting a tall individual... she gasped. She knew that guy: Seto Kaiba. The puffed up, icy-eyed, and downright terribly hot megalomaniac himself, right here on this island.  
  
A couple minutes later they were on a dueling arena. This is a thing that Kathy knew she shouldn't miss, so she decided to stay on her balcony and watch. There was another balcony closer, but she did not know how to get there. Just as she thought of this, Pegasus and Aislinn appeared in that balcony. Down below, those at the dueling arena did not appear to see them.  
  
Aislinn spotted Kathy, waved, spoke a few words to Pegasus, and disappeared from view. Pegasus turned his attention back to the duel, and Kathy managed to do likewise until she heard Aislinn come up behind her, looking in her finery and her noble smile like the princess Kathy had been imagining herself to be. In her element, Kathy supposed.   
  
"Hey, Az, how was breakfast?"  
  
"Well, I did not get to eat much, but it matters little. How was your morning?"  
  
"I think I've found a dungeon in this castle, but I've yet to look into it."  
  
The expression on her friend's face soured for a heartbeat. "That is interesting."  
  
"Well look at you, all hoity-toity and princess-like."  
  
"Drawn any conclusions yet?"  
  
"Well, I've learned I can't leech anything off the servants."  
  
Silence, the wind blowing through their hair as the duel continued on below.   
  
"I think I know part of the problem, Kath," Aislinn said quietly.  
  
Kathy shot her an alarmed glance. Her friend only used nicknames when she was extremely upset or guilty. The tomboy waited.  
  
"I-- he used to be married to this lady named Cecilia--"  
  
"Oh," interrupted Kathy, "I guess that's the lady that you mentioned earlier. What happened?"  
  
"I was getting to that," Aislinn answered, peeved at the interruption. "Apparently she died."  
  
Shock shone from Kathy's brown eyes. "Did he kill her?"  
  
"No!" Aislinn gasped. "She meant more to him than anything in the world! They worshipped each other!" Suddenly she realized that her voice had been loud and glanced downward and over to her uncle to see if they had heard, but the noises from the duel below seemed to have drowned out her horrified rejections.  
  
"Oh," breathed Kathy to herself, her eyes focused on a far-off point and golden shades of a gossamer nature filling her mind, softening her views, and reassuring her of something that she had hoped. "A tragic romance... His undying love to her driving him to madness in the wake of her demise..."  
  
Aislinn pierced her with a glare, silver hair flying as she whipped her head around. "Do you romanticize all your patient's cases?"  
  
Kathy felt blood rise to her cheeks and fought vainly for control. "He's not my patient, remember? I'm respecting your wishes."  
  
Her friend stopped and stared, horrified realization spreading over her face.   
  
"You--you're falling for him..."  
  
Kathy suddenly became fascinated with the duel, cheeks burning, trying not to think of him standing there like a broken angel, poised like a prince, the sunlight glancing from his silver hair and fair skin, hiding the scars of a painful love under a mask... I didn't mean to, really I didn't... I just wanted to study him...  
  
"Kathy you can't! I don't think--"   
  
"Aislinn, I won't, I know, I can't help how I feel, but I won't act on it, I promise. I've more dignity than that, Az!"  
  
Aislinn seemed not to hear, however, she was staring at the dueling arena. "Kathy, look."  
  
Kathy looked. Seto Kaiba was standing on the edge of the precipice.   
  
"He must be crazy, not your uncle."  
  
They watched in fascination as his opponent attacked, then for some reason cut it short.  
  
"Close call," muttered Kathy, then it struck her as the CEO turned around made the final blow. "Hey, he cheated! Your uncle ought to throw him out."  
  
"No," said Aislinn, "I don't think he will. I don't think Kaiba broke any rules, and he was extremely creative."  
  
"But... that can't be fair! How can you say that wasn't cheating?!"  
  
"He simply used his opponent's weakness against him. My uncle will be pleased."  
  
A glance in the direction of said host revealed that he was indeed smiling. Noticing them, he nodded and then disappeared from view.  
  
****  
  
Moments later they stood at a semi-hidden opening to the room where Kaiba was confronting Pegasus, munching little sandwiches Kathy had managed to obtain from the kitchen. Aislinn noted that nobody seemed to notice them there, and that was fine with her. Acoustics were good, so they could easily hear everything both persons said, but they also had to whisper so as not to disturb anything.  
  
She hadn't told Kathy about the Eye, and felt a little uneasy at withholding this information, but she needed to understand it herself first.  
  
Aislinn noted with fear that the manic gleam in her uncle's good eye was stronger than before, then heard something that make her cringe.  
  
"Kaiba's brother?" she whispered to Kathy. "Wha--"  
  
"Sssh, I'm trying to hear. It must have something to do with the dungeons."  
  
Pegasus's aides brought out a young boy, Kaiba's brother, Aislinn supposed, but something was wrong... his eyes...  
  
Then her uncle, demons dancing in gaze, held up a card with an image Kaiba's brother, and understanding slammed into Aislinn like a tidal wave. Before her eyes, the room darkened, her feet went numb, and her stomach turned. Desperately she spun away from the horrid reality and fell to the floor, retching.   
  
Kathy's arms were instantly around her, pulling her away.   
  
They stumbled to a lavatory connected to one of the rooms, and Kathy set Aislinn over the toilet before she began running water in the sink, but Aislinn's wave of sickness was over. Shakily, she got to her feet and plunged her face into the icy water, the cold giving her system a jump-start, then let herself slide numbly to the cold floor and her head lean back against the wall. Kathy was sitting on the bathtub, staring at her hands.  
  
For a long moment they sat in stunned silence.  
  
"I'm afraid I don't understand just what happened there," Kathy finally said, her words echoing in the tiled room.  
  
Aislinn did not answer, could not answer; her mind was numb, her stomach sick, the skin on her knees bloody from her fingernails. As she began to recover and life slowly leaked back, she realized that she was shaking. Kathy's arm went around her shoulders.  
  
"Az, pull yourself together. What's wrong?"  
  
"Kathy, he--it's--unbeliev--monster--"  
  
"Az, calm down!"  
  
Aislinn took a deep breath, and struggled to get her thoughts in order.   
  
"His left eye is--is replaced with something... false...it's like, gold or something... It--he said that it--it has something to do with souls. I think he trapped Kaiba's brother's soul somewhere. In that card."  
  
"That's really difficult to accept." Kathy sounded as though she was walking on eggs. Aislinn had no response.  
  
"Would pain induce insanity?" she asked finally, softly.  
  
"You think this false eye is the cause of some of this... eccentricity?"  
  
"It's what I want to think."  
  
"Perhaps the Eye combined with the loss of..."  
  
"Cecilia." Aislinn was beginning to feel a little better now, now that she could rationalize this out. "But... it still doesn't explain why he would steal souls."  
  
"Perhaps you could ask him?"  
  
"Kathy, I'm--I'm afraid," she began, then remembered that he had never finished what he was going to tell her. "Then again, maybe he wanted to tell me."  
  
"If I were you, I'd approach it indirectly," Kathy said. "Do something that you both love to do. Let him remember how much he loves you, you, his family, his dear niece. Then say something, like... maybe discussing old friends, or something, something that will eventually lead up to discussing Cecilia or the Eye. Be kind."  
  
She took a deep breath. "Alright. I'll try it."  
  
"Want to go watch the duel?" asked Kathy, and Aislinn's stomach turned.  
  
"No, thank you. You go. I'll wait in my room."  
  
Kathy winced. "I'm not so sure I can find it, and I'm not so sure you can walk."  
  
Aislinn couldn't help but smile. "Then you can help me back first and watch the duel later. I'll draw you out a map while I'm at it."  
  
Together they worked their way back to the rooms, wondering what the future would bring to the castle.  
  
****  
  
[Due to the exciting lack of reviews, I'm taking my jolly sweet time writing this. If you want it to get done faster, I need a REVIEW. And if you've got any advice, I am trying to write this well, so anything that doesn't flow right or doesn't make sense, just inform me, k? And I know it's probably boring, which is probably why nobody seems to be reading this, but I'm having too much fun to drop it. Thank you, come again!] 


	4. Fou

Yikes, late update. Here's the next chapter...  
  
------------------------------  
  
Kathy walked away from the dueling room in a state of shock. It was all true... Amazing... Horrific...  
  
She shuddered. After that, after watching that, she couldn't believe that she had blushed when she saw his face... abominable... How could he...  
  
She felt sick, and sank into a seat along one of the many hallways. Stealing souls. Never in a million years would she have believed it, not until she had seen it with her own eyes. Seeing nobody around, she buried her face in her hands in an attempt to alleviate the nausea.  
  
Moments later she heard footsteps in the hallway, coming her way, and prayed they would just pass on by so she could think about everything, but they slowed and stopped in front of her.   
  
"Why, Miss Kathy," came his smooth voice, "are you alright?"  
  
Oh, no. Of all people. Not now, not now...   
  
"Yes, sir," she muttered into her hands.  
  
"I can see something is troubling you, and it's the least I can do for my niece to help out her friend."  
  
Kathy didn't answer. She should have asked him to leave her alone, and deep down she knew that if she didn't, he would stay and talk to her, for she was his favorite relative's friend. And yet... she kept thinking about the girl who's portrait hung on the wall, and perhaps it was the little voice inside her that was a complete sucker for romance that held back her voice, or maybe the way he drew back after a moment.  
  
"You saw the duel, didn't you." It was a statement, not a question, and there was restrained, irrational anger burning in every word.  
  
"I did," she managed. "And so did Aislinn."  
  
No response came back, and when she looked up, he was gone.  
  
****  
  
The ballroom was somewhat ovular, with a high ceiling from which a chandelier hung, and an atmosphere of grandeur. It wasn't as fancy as the ballroom of the old mansion where they used to play and scare guests and get into trouble, but it was airy and beautiful. Even the air seemed to sparkle in this peaceful place, and she imagined she could hear the ghostly echoes of old concertos played here. Aislinn once again imagined herself a princess, stepping to the beat of a waltz with an imaginary prince, gliding over the floor with steps she had not stepped in a very long time.   
  
After a time she began to feel silly dancing by herself despite her mood, so she took an inventory of the objects, hoping for a violin. What she did see, on a raised platform meant for a stage, was a lovely, black grand piano, gleaming in the chandelier light. It had been so long since she had played on anything other than a keyboard or lousy, clunky stand-up, and her fingers itched and cried to run over the invitingly white ivory. How could one resist? Entranced in a dream of finery, she gracefully climbed onto the stage, finding a book of classical pieces waiting on the cushioned seat. Delicately, carefully, she turned to a piece she had known and loved by Mozart, set it on the stand, and began to play. Oh, it was wonderful, wonderful, there in the ballroom, the chandelier sparkling, the grand's clear notes ringing harmony and comfort, softening the blows of the world around, sharpening, clarifying, and explaining every thought and dream.  
  
She thought about her brother Talon and the way he was ruining her life, taking from her all she loved and knew, keeping her down toward bankruptcy. The thought brought pain to her heart, and she played into the pain and panic. It will be okay, whispered the music, your uncle will come through. He loves you yet, you'll see. It brought a smile to her face and tears to the corners of her eyes.   
  
Eventually the song finished, but Aislinn's soul was not satisfied yet. Eagerly, she turned the page, and found a piano/violin duet, and gasped. It was a duet that she had learned to play with her uncle, hoping to perform it at a banquet sometime. The violin part was difficult, and it had taken her uncle a long time to learn it. Too long. They had practiced together but once before she was forbidden to see him, on a warm spring morning just days before the wedding. Excitement was ringing in the air, and her uncle was having difficulty concentrating on anything, so Aislinn, amused at his uncharacteristically short attention span, suggested they play music together to give the extra energy an outlet and to pass the time more quickly. It worked. They had played from about noon until sundown, different pieces, until her uncle suggested they give the duet a whirl. It hadn't gone terribly well, but they had a good laugh and parted happily. In fact, that had been the last time she had seen him at all. Until now.  
  
Shaking, she began to work out the notes, trying to regain control of emotions. It was stiff and clumsy. She stopped. Alright. This song is in memory of my dear uncle, and those days of peace.   
  
Without restraint, she began again, and this time her body swayed to her emotions and she let them pour out into her fingertips the way she let them reign her violin. The notes swelled and tumbled, and she wrapped herself in them until she could almost hear the violin singing the melody. No, she could hear a violin. Tears began to run down her cheeks, and she backed off a little to let the violin melody soar through. Instead of the gentle, passionate, clumsy notes she remembered hearing, the line was perfect and restrained. Perfect. The result of many, many hours of practice. Had he missed her, during those times? Had he thought of his niece? Did he forget for the slightest moment the pain in his heart? Then she thought about the restraint and precision of the notes, and she knew that he had not let his soul enter the music to be comforted. He tried to draw comfort from the music, instead of letting go, letting his pain and sorrow leak into the river of melody. He had bottled it up, tried to kill it, but now it was killing him, eating and eating at the light at his core until he would have nothing left but a shell, a shell of darkness...  
  
The last note died away to nothingness.  
  
Nothing moved for a long time.  
  
He spoke first. "Lovely, my dear niece. Nobody could play like you do."  
  
She turned and smiled at him; he still held the violin in his hands. "To express my gratitude for that undeserving remark, uncle, I shall critique your performance: it was perfect."  
  
He chuckled. "But...?"  
  
She let her smile fade, and fixed him with a stare that she hoped looked hopefully compassionate. "But you had no emotion in it, and so it was dead."   
  
"Are the acoustics to your liking?" he asked, shunting aside her implicit question.  
  
"The reverberation is odd, the way this ceiling and these walls are built, but it is pleasant enough."  
  
"Ah, accept nothing but the best, I see." Chuckling, he pulled a bottle of wine out of a nearby cabinet with two glasses. "It must be a while since you've tasted good wine, yes? I apologize for not offering earlier, but I know you never used to drink anything in the morning. I believe this is a favorite of yours, as well."  
  
"Thank you, you have remembered," she said, accepting the glass he poured, and they silently toasted nothing at all. It was an old ritual and Aislinn couldn't remember how it had started, but they always gave a silent toast when pouring a glass in the ballroom.  
  
A grin softened his features and an excitement she recognized from the old days shone in his eyes, a secret which he knew she would love. At the edges of her heart a little tiny bead of hope formed. Maybe everything could yet be healed. "Perhaps this would interest you," he said, walking over to a table and unlocking a drawer. Inside the drawer was a little remote, and he pressed a button, then walked over to the piano, beckoning silence with a gesture.   
  
"You always liked Canterbury's echo, didn't you?" he whispered eagerly in her ear. "So, play now."  
  
So she did. The first few notes of Cannon in D came back to her ears like they had traveled down the nave and back, almost perfectly imitating a cathedral reverb. Almost. **  
  
"Isn't it wonderful?" he laughed, a child enjoying a summer's day at the beach or the wonder of a comet for the first time, so full of wonder and awe and beauty... It was the first time since they had parted that she had seen such in his eyes, and her stomach twisted. "There are so many settings to choose from! See, there are microphones-" he saw her face and stopped.  
  
"Why, whatever is the matter?"  
  
"I... I can't believe you'd do something like this..." she started, feeling the pity and the anguish of things lost and the anger towards fate mixing into a black stormcloud within her that could not be held back.   
  
"You never would have done this in the old days..." stop! A voice cried inside her, He'll be lost again to you if you do this now, if you are too harsh! But it was too late, the words were pouring out of here.  
  
"All this.. falsity! You would have hated it! You would have built your own cathedral room just to hear the echo! Not installed this... this mechanical... imitation!"   
  
His face was a mask of horror.  
  
She spotted something lying on the table.  
  
"What's that?"  
  
Horror faded, replaced by a coldness which hurt her more. "It is a comic book." Poison dripped from every word. "I find it amusing, niece. Perhaps you will as well, or perhaps you'll find it...false."  
  
"This isn't you, uncle," she pleaded, aching from his cold manner, trying to use what could never be taken back. Might as well run with it. "What happened to the old days, when we laughed and sang and enjoyed life together? I don't even know who you are now!" True anger and frustration, building since her arrival, fuelled her voice. Blood rose to her cheeks, the wine soured in her mouth, memories clouded her eyes, and all she knew was that she felt in that blood the shame he had laid on her, tasted in her mouth the filth of his deeds, and only the memories remained pure. And at that moment, she hated him. "And what is this?" she shouted, grabbing the wine glass from his fingers as he was lifting it to his lips somewhat nervously. "Oh, I see," she seethed, seeing red, "you haven't had any since morning, have you, you've been too busy, and now you need it, every cell in your body is screaming for it-"  
  
"-Aislinn-" he gasped, genuinely astonished.  
  
"You need this, but you aren't going to get it, because you're destroying yourself! I won't let you anymore!"  
  
"Aislinn," he stammered, for the first time losing control and the pain shone through, hot and desperate, in his eyes. "Aislinn, please I have a duel this evening-- I must win, Aislinn, please--don't--don't--just--"  
  
"What, can't come up with something quick enough?! Can't think of anything to replace what you began to say, 'Aislinn, give me that wine?' " She held it over her head, ready to drop it to the ground and let it spill over the floor.   
  
"Please, please tell me what the matter is, so I can help! Uncle, are you listening to me?! Don't let your pain consume you, let me help you!"  
  
She dropped the glass. It shattered on the hard floor, a pool of red liquid like the blood of murdered love.  
  
He spun away from her, shaking violently, gripping the wine bottle as though it alone held him to reality, and then froze for a long moment. When he faced her again, slowly, he was cold, poised, and stiff with icy fury that smoldered dangerously in hard, sober eyes. "You know nothing of this hell I endure," he hissed. "Leave me be."  
  
Shakily, Aislinn took another, long sip of wine as the reverb echoed his words like menacing voices of shadow-dwelling demons as her uncle strode stiffly from the room.  
  
*********  
  
As she walked out of the ballroom in a bit of a fog from the wine, Aislinn passed a glass chess set. She carefully picked up the bishop and pushed it on its side with a laugh. "Your fou," she whispered. ****  
  
_______________  
  
** This is an actual device. The one I am acquainted with is a box-like portable room that can hold several people, has glass walls, and has several buttons along the side that is not transparent. Want a cathedral echo? A stadium? Simply press the button for whatever reverb you want, and you've got it. It's really very cool.   
  
****it's French. Look it up. 


	5. The Fall

[I feel it would be proper to defend myself here. I do not think that this is a Mary-Sue. It was not meant to be. It was meant to be pure and simple angst, using a character that I myself did not need to develop thus saving a lot of time and effort. I'm a little confused how anyone could consider it a Mary-Sue, especially after the first chapter. Some of my fics are Mary-Sue, but I do not need to invent my own cheesy character: Cecilia already existed ;   
  
I confess, Kathy was meant to be a Mary-Sue character, but apparently it was not to be.  
  
You the reader, having gotten this far, can draw your own conclusions. If it seems like a Mary-Sue to you, so be it. The problem with Mary-Sue fics is that most of them are poorly written. I've tried very hard not to write this badly, and I would be grateful for thoughts and suggestions in the form of reviews ;-) ]  
  
Earlier, it would have been amusing to walk through the corridors of the castle and discover the little touches that were obviously her uncle's and laugh at his blatant vanity as he had hers so many years before., but now it was just sand in Aislinn's wounds, and she walked quickly, wishing they could just find that hot-tub. Kathy at her side, however, with her insatiable and slightly sadistic curiosity, held her back, insisting that they explore the parts of the castle where she had found the dungeon. Aislinn's pride refused to take one for the team on this matter, so she bit back the slightly nauseous feelings and agreed.  
  
It wasn't long before they became lost in the twisting passageways, and it seemed that most of the aides were attending to the tournament and therefore nowhere to be found. Kathy seemed to enjoy this freedom and took the opportunity to explore several rooms where she knew very well she would not be welcome with a reckless, curious abandon that appalled the high-bred, fine-mannered Aislinn, who refused to enter the rooms out of etiquette. One time when Kathy ran up a flight of stairs Aislinn could have sworn she had something in her pocket when she came down that wasn't there before, but she said nothing, instead suggesting they get some fresh air.  
  
A few hours later they were walking across the lush green grass towards the shore, soaking in the sunlight, and Aislinn sensed that Kathy was keeping something from her.   
  
"Kathy?"  
  
"Um... hm?"  
  
"What's wrong?" It suddenly occurred to her what type of answers might come back. "No, wait, I don't want to know."  
  
Kathy exploded. "Look what I found, Az!" She pulled a smallish book out of her pocket, and Aislinn recognized it as the object Kathy had taken out of the room.  
  
"Alright, what is it?" she sighed.  
  
"I think it's a diary!"  
  
"Kathy! How could you?! I'm surprised!" Aislinn snatched the book from her friend's grasp.  
  
"Oh, all right," she said, abashed.   
  
Aislinn, coming in from a relaxing roam of the island with Kathy, grabbed the attention of the aide.  
  
"What stage is the tournament in?"  
  
"The duel between Master Pegasus and Yugi Moto has just begun, Miss."  
  
She glanced at Kathy, who smiled. "Why not?"  
  
They watched the duel together in silence from their hidden niche, neither making any comments about Maximillion Pegasus for which Aislinn was grateful to her friend. Many times she had to force back tears or force her fists to unclench before her nails drew blood. A few times Maximillion Pegasus even lost his unshakable composure, and Aislinn had to wonder whether it had anything to do with the recent confrontation in the ballroom. Even though she knew that it would have come sooner or later, she wished that it could have been after this final duel.  
  
Finally, it was the last move of the duel, and with a powerful blow to her uncle's monster and to her heart, she knew that Yugi had won.   
  
She half expected him to make some glib remark honoring the victor, or maybe to walk away in a blaze of repressed fury. He had always been a man of his word, a gracious loser, and had unbelievable composure with the exception of the slip before Aislinn that morning, but it hardly counted under the circumstances.  
  
Either would have been preferable to the sheer terror and devastation blatantly frozen on his face. He buried his head despairingly in his hands as Yugi proclaimed his victory, lips moving in words that Aislinn could not hear.   
  
As Pegasus turned to flee the arena Aislinn rose to follow him, but Kathy's hand was clenching her arm and the diary was open, her face ashen, her eyes tearful. This time Aislinn cared little about privacy, and read the passage Kathy pointed to.   
  
Everything became clear, and she suddenly knew her uncle was in grave danger. Cecilia had been his motive all along, winning this duel would bring her back, and losing this duel... She did not understand how the Eye worked, but she had read despair in her uncle and was aware that this might be the final push that would send him over the edge that he had walked for so long. Perhaps to suicide.  
  
She was racing down the hallway towards her uncle, Kathy following on her heels. They collided with two aides who blocked their way.  
  
"You can't come through. This area is restricted."  
  
"Get out of my way or I'll have you fired," Aislinn snarled with no attempt at self-restraint. "Now!"  
  
Slightly cowed, the aide hesitated just long enough for her to push him aside and rush through. The hallway intercepted another, the entrance to the dueling arena on the left and a passageway to elsewhere to the right. Aislinn flung herself around the left and into the arena only to find her uncle gone, and cursed while she made an about-face and raced down the corridor. In order to get through, she dealt the aide a swift kick to the shins.  
  
"Stop me again and I'll aim higher!" she shouted over her shoulder.  
  
A few more minutes and the corridor split. Aislinn swore again in fury. "Kathy, left, I'll go right, and we'll both hope that he didn't go straight. Go! Now!" Before waiting for an answer she flew down the hall to the right and up a flight of stairs.  
  
At the top she heard her uncle's voice and paused, suddenly frightened. A divider hid the stairwell from the rest of the room, and she needed to get around it in order to see what was happening, but before she could move she felt a prick on her back and a strong, thin arm snake around her neck.  
  
"Move, speak, or breathe, and die," whispered a malicious voice in her ear. No option was left but to comply while she was roughly bound and gagged, her face pressed against the stairs. Now she could not see, but she could hear. Her uncle was speaking to Cecilia, addressing, she supposed, the portrait. So passionate was his speech that tears came to her eyes.  
  
The voice that had threatened her spoke up, and a brief conversation followed during which Aislinn could do nothing but squirm, for the binding was done well. A battle? With the Items? Losing... Desperately she tried to get out, but all in vain. A sickening thud resounded through the room. A battle lost. More than a battle! A war! Her uncle's war was lost. What was that demon doing now? Taking the Eye! But...  
  
Aislinn squeezed her eyes shut against the image of the Eye being torn from her uncle's skull, tried to shut her ears against the agonizing scream of horror and despair and her own heart pounding wildly in her chest as if it was some struggling animal trying to escape, trying to think of him as the broken shell of a man, the animal who could steal people's souls and seem to enjoy it...   
  
...the animal who loved so deeply, so passionately that he was truly destroyed when she left and willing to go to any length to become whole again...  
  
...the animal who was brilliant enough and mad enough to attempt a scheme such as this...  
  
...the animal whose cries now sounded so terribly human...  
  
...the man who was and always would be her uncle, the only true family she had left. No matter what. 


	6. Finale

Then came the silence. Sighing, enveloping, empty silence of fate, having dealt its hand, withdrawing back into shadows.   
  
Turning her head, she saw through a veil of tears the creature, the bloody Eye in his hands, and thanked heaven that she was not prone to nausea. Before she could work herself out of shock into rage, fingers touched her shoulder and she felt something cold on her wrist. Cold and metallic.  
  
Great, now he's going to kill me.  
  
"Az, it's me, Kathy. Don't struggle, I'm trying to cut your bonds-" her voice cracked. "I'm so sorry," she stammered. "I--I wanted to cut you free so you could rescue him, but I was afraid..." Very nearly laughing now, she choked on her tears. "I--I thought I'd fallen in love, but I guess... Oh Aislinn! And I'm a psychologist!"  
  
Kathy's hysteria brought Aislinn back to her own senses, and she embraced her friend. "It's okay, Kathy, really, it's perfectly normal. Come on, you must tell your patients that all the time."  
  
"Aislinn, your uncle, we should-"  
  
She never got to finish her sentence before footsteps sounded behind them.  
  
"The drapes, quickly!"  
  
Truthfully, Aislinn was glad that Kathy was never able to finish her sentence; she did not know what kind of state her uncle would be in, if he was dead, alive, or laying in a pool of blood, and as she ducked towards the drapes she covered her eyes.  
  
"Quick, Kathy," she whispered, "tell me if it's bad."  
  
"Open your eyes, Az," she replied, "you're behind the drapes." Kathy's face was pale. "It's not good, Az. I don't want to-" again she was cut short as some aides emerged at the top of the stairs. Silently they pressed against the wall out of sight and held their breath.  
  
"Ugh! What-- what could have possibly..."  
  
"I have no idea, but we'd better investigate. Is he still alive?"  
  
"Yes, but we'd better get him somewhere-- look at this."  
  
"Hm. We need a bandage to stop the bleeding, and quickly."  
  
"Here, I've torn a bit of my shirt sleeve."  
  
"Wad it up, then bind it to his eye with this... yes, like that. Come on, let's move him out of here."  
  
"Will he be alright?"  
  
"Do you really care, as long as you get paid?"  
  
"Ha. Right."  
  
As they walked out of the room, Aislinn wanted to run up and strangle the men, but she restrained herself. When they were long gone the two decided to follow them to check up on her uncle.  
  
They met up with an aide, a younger man, looking slightly disturbed in the hallway.  
  
"Where is my uncle?" Aislinn demanded.  
  
"You don't know?" he stammered. "Something... happened. We don't know what, but it's under control." Right, thought Aislinn. The aide pointed to a stairwell. "He's right up there, but there's a doctor there right now who isn't letting anyone in."  
  
"And what are you doing just standing there? Isn't there some work for you to do somewhere?" she snapped.  
  
"Well, everything's--" he began, then saw the look on her face. "R-right," he said, and hurried off in the opposite directing.  
  
"What now, Az? Do we go up?"  
  
"I don't want to disturb the doctor." Good excuse as any. She couldn't face him right now, broken. No. He had been broken far before this.  
  
They waited and waited with no change, instructed an aide to inform them when they could see him, and went to bed. There was nothing else to do.  
  
It was late the next day when they were finally allowed to see him. Aislinn mustered her strength and stepped into the room.  
  
Kathy took a deep breath as the aura enwrapped her, an aura of the heavy, mourning stillness, silence, and closure of complete abandon, of a mission ended.  
  
The last rays of the sunset were visible from the two open windows, across from which was an ornate canopy bed. Beside the bed on an end table was the only light in the room: a single candle flickering against the darkness, lighting up a photo of Cecilia... A knot formed in Kathy's throat, and she glanced at the figure on the bed, staring into the photo languidly with his one good eye. A bandage was wrapped over the other eye around his head.  
  
"Uncle," whispered Aislinn.  
  
"Aislinn," he replied, distantly. Lost, on another plane of existence.  
  
As they walked over to him, the moon emerged from behind a cloud, spraying soft silver over the room, illuminating the silver hair and pale skin of the relatives so they appeared unearthly, angelic. Again Kathy remembered her first meeting. She had spent the past hours contemplating what it was to love. She could say that she loved the moon, and fireflies, loved the sunset on water and wind through the leaves and music flying on the breeze like dandelion seeds, but she would not risk herself for those, either. She knew now that, while she had fallen in love with his strange, eccentric beauty, it had never been more complex than that.  
  
Until yesterday, that is, when she had read his diary, and discovered the truth. Then she had felt a kinship, a deeper sympathy and glimmers of respect beneath a dark ocean of repulsion. Now, however, seeing him lying there in utter, peaceful despair like a fallen angel, the water receded and she felt nothing but pure, simple sympathetic love tinged with awe for this legend who had been brought so low.  
  
Aislinn took his hand. "Uncle, please, say something."  
  
Again, the reply was distant and listless. "I have so much... to explain."  
  
"No, uncle, I know it."  
  
"Then you know... I've lost everything." He laughed once, grimly, his chocolate-brown eye still focused at nothing. "Except for you, Aislinn my dear."  
  
"Perhaps... I could stay with you-"  
  
"When I get better?" Now his gaze was focused on Aislinn, and his mouth curved in a wry smile. "Nothing you can do will make my life worth living again, niece. I will not get better, for I've no reason to stay." He drew a deep breath. "I'm sorry, my dear. I do not mean to make you unimportant, but you know as well as I that I am not the man I was. Since... Cecilia left, I do believe I've slowly lost my mind, although I didn't realize it until tonight, when I can think more clearly than I could for a long time. It is a strange feeling..." His concentration wavered again. "No, I cannot stay, and I have no will left to go on."  
  
Aislinn returned his grim smile. "I thought as much, uncle, but I ought to try anyway. Are you in pain?"  
  
He sighed. "Very much. Aislinn, over in the cupboard is a bottle of wine. Pour a glass for me, please." Slowly, he reached into a pocket and withdrew a flask. "I don't have the strength; please put this in."  
  
Aislinn took the flask and read the label, and a sad expression came over her face. One glance at Pegasus, whose smile had vanished, and Kathy knew it must be poison, and thought that Aislinn would object. Instead, with hardly a hesitation, Aislinn did as she was bid and handed the glass to her uncle, who drained it solemly. She did not drink her own wine.  
  
A deathly stillness settled on the room for a long moment, until Pegasus spoke again.  
  
"All I have will, of course, go to you, Aislinn. Use it to send your brother to hell."  
  
Kathy smiled at the uncharacteristic comment, and Aislinn chuckled. Pegasus seemed to realize for the first time that Kathy was in the room.  
  
"Kathy, wasn't it? Come, please, I wish to take the hand of the one who thought I was still beautiful. No, I did not read your mind," he said, smiling, "don't worry about that; anyone with half a thought could see it written all over your face, my dear."  
  
Weakly, he wrapped his free hand around hers, and she wanted so badly to comfort him, but could not.  
  
Aislinn walked across the room to an innocuous stereo and withdrew a CD from her purse. A song echoed through the room, harmonies that worked their way into the fibers of the muscles and the brain and urged them to relax, melodies that whispered of far-off worlds, of hope and love and longing.  
  
"What is this angel that calls me, my niece? What silvery tongue of Heaven is this?" His speech was beginning to slur.  
  
"Gaelic, uncle. This is Enya. I thought you might like it."  
  
"How lovely... how lovely..." no longer was he speaking to them, no longer was he even in the room or aware of those around him, his gaze distant and unfocused, lost in another time, another place. He focused briefly on the picture of his lost love, then sank back into the pillows and closed his good eye.  
  
For a moment they thought he had fallen asleep, but he spoke again, and this time, strangely, his melodic voice, barely a whisper, was not slurred at all. "Ah, love, may you find some goodness in my heart that I may fly with you. If it be not so, I accept my cursed fate."  
  
With these final words, his last breath flew from him. The wine glass slipped from his hand and shattered into a million moonlight-glittering pieces on the floor. Kathy even thought that the flame of the candle, though there was no wind, had flickered, but told herself it was just her imagination.  
  
After a moment, on impulse, she raised his hand to her lips and kissed the smooth, slender knuckles of the artist, an acknowledgement and solemn solute to love and beauty and the power of precious human hope in the hands of the passionate.  
  
Aislinn too bent, slowly, and kissed his forehead, her silver hair mingling with his, reminding Kathy that the Pegasus passion was still have in her veins.  
  
In a whisper almost too soft to hear, Kathy heard Aislinn give her final farewell to her uncle. " 'Now cracks a noble heart. Good night, sweet prince, and flights of angels lead thee to thy rest.' "   
  
Finally, Aislinn took the bottle of poison, emptied the last of it into her wine glass where it disappeared as the bloodred wine enwrapped it, catching the moonlight sparkling in the dark room like ambrosia in the hands of an angel. Then she tore off the label, and tossed the bottle out the window. Destroying the evidence.  
  
Together, they left for bed, each to their separate rooms, Kathy still in possession of the diary, Aislinn still holding the poisoned wine, both uncertain about the future but was a distinct feeling of the beauty and goodness of humanity that still lived on.  
  
oOo  
  
notes:  
  
Okay, the specific song that is playing here is Smaointe, last track on the Shepherd Moon CD. Absolutely gorgeous.  
  
Hamlet. I hope I don't have to tell you who it's written by ;-) 


	7. Epilogue

Epilogue  
  
Most of the castle was empty, but the lively sounds of a waltz drifted through the stone walls. Aislinn followed the joyful sound, an inexplicable lightness in her heart, a feeling that all was well. The music led her to the ornate doors of the ballroom. For a moment she stood, listening to the music that lilted   
  
Light poured through the open doors and the music filled the hall. The ballroom was empty but for a few couples, none of who Aislinn recognized but one: Maximillion and Cecilia Pegasus, dressing in wedding clothes, flying across the floor. Around them the air shimmered and sparkled with joy and happiness and infinite love, their laughter ringing like bells as they spun and spun in an eternally blissful waltz.  
  
They spotted her, standing at the doorway, and beckoned her to join their company.   
  
Overcome by joy, she picked up her violin and began to play for them with music that held all the joy never allotted them in life. 


End file.
